


peach sunrise

by IvyPrincess



Series: just a thought [16]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Amsterdam, M/M, One Night Stands, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25675423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvyPrincess/pseuds/IvyPrincess
Summary: 3 parts peach vodka, 3 parts orange juice, 2 parts pineapple juice.shake with ice, strain.garnish with half-forgotten regrets.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Series: just a thought [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722790
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	peach sunrise

Mark’s first mistake is being efficient. He wraps up the Noord job two days faster than his superiors had expected, and his flight isn’t until the next evening, so he has nothing to do except nurse a beer at the hotel bar and mull over his thoughts.

There is blood on his hands, he thinks, looking down at blunt nails and calloused fingers, remembering the target he had just eliminated. The recovered files sit pretty at the bottom of his suitcase in a battered little flash drive. He should go turn the damn thing in at the embassy already, he knows. But it’s the last in a long line of cases he’s made countless sacrifices for, a filthy track record he’s given up everything for, and maybe he wants to savor his soon-to-be freedom just a bit. He downs the rest of his glass, grimacing at the aftertaste.

His second mistake is looking up. A loud laugh from the other end of the bar catches his attention immediately, and he stares into the sun. It’s rather uncommon to see another Korean man this far north, and perhaps that’s the first thing he notices, but he thinks that wide smile would have captivated him no matter what. Mark raises his glass to his lips at the same time that the other man drinks, and he’s surprised to see his grimace mirrored on the other’s lips, too. It gives him an idea.

* * *

“Well, if you wanted my attention, you sure got it,” comes a husky remark as the stranger slides Mark’s gift back in front of him. His English is crisply accented, reminiscent of Mark’s coworkers who had all spent their formative years in snobby boarding schools.

Mark inhales as he turns towards the other man. It’s the last time he breathes for a while. This close, the stranger is even more stunning, clever eyes and plump lips and Mark chokes on the scent of lavender. “I just thought you deserved a drink you could enjoy,” he replies smoothly. He knows the game. He plays it well.

The stranger grins, making a show of sipping at the peach cocktail. Mark focuses on the way his tongue swipes over that pink mouth with an insatiable hunger. “Well, at least you have impeccable taste,” the other man drawls. “I’m Haechan, and you are…?”

“Interested in continuing this conversation elsewhere.”

* * *

Mark’s third mistake is leaving the blinds open. The morning sun is harsh and unforgiving, and Mark sinks further into his sheets, but as he stretches out, the sensory surprise of fingertips brushing against a crisp edge has him shooting upright, hangover be damned.

It’s a jagged piece of the hotel stationery, nostalgic script tugging at a distant memory, and Mark’s heart sinks. There will be something missing from his luggage, he knows. Something small, something irreplaceable, something in exchange for what he took from Haechan a long time ago.

 _You are too kind for this line of work_ , Lee Donghyuck’s calling card reads. _I hope we never meet again_. And Mark inhales the lavender-scented lie.


End file.
